Friday, January 12, 2007
Lost Planet: Extreme Party
I've always wondered what the difference was between Very Important People and merely Important People. Last night, I finally found out. Using the wonders of the internet and this revolutionary bridge technology (which allows people to drive over a massive body of water!) I was able to worm my way into the Official American Lost Planet: Extreme Condition Launch Party. Even though only the most elite members of the general public were on hand, the promoters thought further segregation was required. While I was enjoying the bountiful spread of food along with a rock-climbing wall of the lower level, my eyes kept drifting towards the forbidden VIP room. If we have an honest to goodness Lego God mixing with the Important People, what could possibly be on the second floor?
Alcohol.
Seems VIPs are very similar to you and I, they just need a magic liquid to make their lives manageable. I was mistakenly forced into the VIP room when a guard thought my Blackberry energy drink was comprised of conscience-disarming alcohol. He forced me "back" into the room, where I found fewer light bulbs, only a couple TVs displaying the game we were supposedly all there to play, and lots of bars overflowing with free booze. After making sure none of the people lounging in their dark stupor were actually important, I left just as casually as I had entered. To think that I had pined for that room when the real show was down below.
I had arrived on the surprisingly cold streets of San Francisco three hours before the doors opened. Unfortunately, the line was already many shivering bodies deep. I actually waited outside for three hours, discussing the vagaries of the industry with a couple guys in front of me whose website I cannot remember. Little did I know then that I would spend more time waiting in line outside than hanging out inside.
Once inside I was immediately engulfed in a wall of fog. I would have taken a picture, but, you know, it's fog. Capcom must have gotten fog machines on the cheap years ago and now felt the need to use them at every event. As people in front of me coughed a path through the haze, I came to a table. Bethany and I decided to enter the tournament having never played the game. Stupidly, we thought the matches would be team based and, if we wormed into the right crowd, we would be handed a barrel full of swag we did not rightfully earn. But we would have to wait a half hour to find out where we stood in the world of competitive Lost Planet tournaments.
From the multiplayer registration tournament we made our way, through more fog, to the food table. I actually looked around for a price list or cashier before I realized they were just giving me free food. And it was good food too. A feast provided by Wolfgang Puck. I loaded my plate with beef and chicken, grabbed a green flavored Monster energy drink and found a quiet seat on a bench in front of a new copy of Lost Planet. I wanted to eat but Bethany thought it her duty to learn the game whose tournament she would soon be entering. Needless to say, I should have spent some time learning the controls and Bethany should have spent some time learning how to use that tricky right analog stick.
From our brief foray to the icy planet, we decided to roam the showfloor. Through the fog, on the other side of the room, we spied an inflatable rock-climbing wall. It was small, only 15 feet high, but it sure did look tempting. It would have been more like Lost Planet had they given us grappling hooks, but my manly man arms were all the tools I needed to rise to the top. I ascended the mountain with so much grace, you would have thought I was an otter sliding down a water slide. The silence I heard when I had reached the top and looked down was of the quiet awe reserved for sculptors and hand models. Bethany, of course, made my rise look clunky as she leaped up like a cat on speed. Five minutes later, we had conquered the fabled beast.
Now, would you like to hear a bit about the actual game? I haven't played any of the demos available on Live since I knew Gamefly would send it to me soon after release. Demos are such a tease. I figured I could hold my own in any shooter, though. I thought wrong. I at least had some fun with the organizers before the match. After everyone had joined the match, the server crashed. I took advantage of the situation and set up my own room. They wanted us to play "Elimination," an every man for himself deathmatch. I made my own Team Elimination room and watched with glee as everyone flocked to it. When it was all set, all 16 seats filled, the organizer realized what I had done. He forced us to quit so they could make a lame ass game of their own. Boring!
I never figured out how to kill people in the game. I was good with the rocket launcher and grenades, but couldn't get one kill with a normal gun. It was really fun, though. I loved grappling onto walls when an enemy would approach, fleeing the scene like a scared cougar. It's easier to stay alive if you actively avoid people with guns. At one point, I was ranked sixth overall. And then I started dying, over and over, until I ended up at 12. Pretty lousy, I'm aware, but I was playing with people who have been honing their skills for months. I am not ashamed.
After the match, Bethany and I just strolled around for a bit. A man was building a Lost Planet character with Lego blocks. There were ice blocks filled with computer equipment. I guess it was art. And there was a line of people still trying to get inside. Bethany and I left about 90 minutes after the show started. It may not have been the greatest thing ever, but it was certainly worth moving all the way across the country to attend.
Alcohol.
Seems VIPs are very similar to you and I, they just need a magic liquid to make their lives manageable. I was mistakenly forced into the VIP room when a guard thought my Blackberry energy drink was comprised of conscience-disarming alcohol. He forced me "back" into the room, where I found fewer light bulbs, only a couple TVs displaying the game we were supposedly all there to play, and lots of bars overflowing with free booze. After making sure none of the people lounging in their dark stupor were actually important, I left just as casually as I had entered. To think that I had pined for that room when the real show was down below.
I had arrived on the surprisingly cold streets of San Francisco three hours before the doors opened. Unfortunately, the line was already many shivering bodies deep. I actually waited outside for three hours, discussing the vagaries of the industry with a couple guys in front of me whose website I cannot remember. Little did I know then that I would spend more time waiting in line outside than hanging out inside.
Once inside I was immediately engulfed in a wall of fog. I would have taken a picture, but, you know, it's fog. Capcom must have gotten fog machines on the cheap years ago and now felt the need to use them at every event. As people in front of me coughed a path through the haze, I came to a table. Bethany and I decided to enter the tournament having never played the game. Stupidly, we thought the matches would be team based and, if we wormed into the right crowd, we would be handed a barrel full of swag we did not rightfully earn. But we would have to wait a half hour to find out where we stood in the world of competitive Lost Planet tournaments.
From the multiplayer registration tournament we made our way, through more fog, to the food table. I actually looked around for a price list or cashier before I realized they were just giving me free food. And it was good food too. A feast provided by Wolfgang Puck. I loaded my plate with beef and chicken, grabbed a green flavored Monster energy drink and found a quiet seat on a bench in front of a new copy of Lost Planet. I wanted to eat but Bethany thought it her duty to learn the game whose tournament she would soon be entering. Needless to say, I should have spent some time learning the controls and Bethany should have spent some time learning how to use that tricky right analog stick.
From our brief foray to the icy planet, we decided to roam the showfloor. Through the fog, on the other side of the room, we spied an inflatable rock-climbing wall. It was small, only 15 feet high, but it sure did look tempting. It would have been more like Lost Planet had they given us grappling hooks, but my manly man arms were all the tools I needed to rise to the top. I ascended the mountain with so much grace, you would have thought I was an otter sliding down a water slide. The silence I heard when I had reached the top and looked down was of the quiet awe reserved for sculptors and hand models. Bethany, of course, made my rise look clunky as she leaped up like a cat on speed. Five minutes later, we had conquered the fabled beast.
Now, would you like to hear a bit about the actual game? I haven't played any of the demos available on Live since I knew Gamefly would send it to me soon after release. Demos are such a tease. I figured I could hold my own in any shooter, though. I thought wrong. I at least had some fun with the organizers before the match. After everyone had joined the match, the server crashed. I took advantage of the situation and set up my own room. They wanted us to play "Elimination," an every man for himself deathmatch. I made my own Team Elimination room and watched with glee as everyone flocked to it. When it was all set, all 16 seats filled, the organizer realized what I had done. He forced us to quit so they could make a lame ass game of their own. Boring!
I never figured out how to kill people in the game. I was good with the rocket launcher and grenades, but couldn't get one kill with a normal gun. It was really fun, though. I loved grappling onto walls when an enemy would approach, fleeing the scene like a scared cougar. It's easier to stay alive if you actively avoid people with guns. At one point, I was ranked sixth overall. And then I started dying, over and over, until I ended up at 12. Pretty lousy, I'm aware, but I was playing with people who have been honing their skills for months. I am not ashamed.
After the match, Bethany and I just strolled around for a bit. A man was building a Lost Planet character with Lego blocks. There were ice blocks filled with computer equipment. I guess it was art. And there was a line of people still trying to get inside. Bethany and I left about 90 minutes after the show started. It may not have been the greatest thing ever, but it was certainly worth moving all the way across the country to attend.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
This one is for the Freqs
Oh that Sony. I'm really not pleased about this. Apparently Harmonix suggested a PSP sequel to Frequency/Amplitude, and Sony shot them down. As Tom and I have tried to communicate DOZENS of times before, Amplitude is a far superior, deeper game than their vastly more successful Guitar Hero, and I know we're not the only ones who would welcome a sequel with open arms. Sony also canceled Traxion, another music game headed to the PSP (from LucasArts). I shouldn't care since I don't even own the system anymore, but that's perhaps the most frustrating part of all; it's a great piece of hardware with so much potential, and not a single game I'm looking forward to playing. Knowing that Sony is actively discouraging any game development on the system, especially a sequel to one of their very best franchises, is simply frustrating.
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